


The Magic of Our Stars

by XeroKittyLives



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XeroKittyLives/pseuds/XeroKittyLives
Summary: Jumin reflects.
Relationships: Han Jumin/Main Character
Kudos: 37





	The Magic of Our Stars

Jumin Han exited the bathroom, rubbing the back of his dripping black hair with the towel he had draped across his shoulders before emerging. His eyes immediately partook in their newly acquired habit of skipping over to where he'd last left his equally new wife, as if his mind were still attempting to process that she was actually and truly real and here. She was of course, his logical brain knew, and yet he still could not shake the peculiar fear that perhaps he had actually dreamed her to his side instead. That within the midst of his recent troubles, he was--somehow--merely deluding his deeper heart with an elaborate and distracting illusion of a simply perfect woman to love him unconditionally. One that so sweetly deceived him that he would not finally hang from those threatening tangled strings he imagined as the wall around his heart and his mind.

Was a death of the heart truly a possible death at all? And if it was, was it pointless to think about if it truly did occur?

Before he could sink further into these strange thoughts that rose up from the deep, dark ocean of his fears to grip at him, his eyes caught her still very much present, half siting, half laying on the cushioned window ledge where she had been reading one of her books. It was where he had left her less than an hour ago. He had loathed the agonizing ordeal of getting up and walking away from her when she'd looked as she had then: her gorgeous eyes ticking back and forth rhythmically across the rows of neatly typed words, quickly devouring each one laid out before them; the fingers of her empty hand that pressed thoughtlessly against her own perfect cheek, and the pinky of that hand notched maddeningly across her full inviting lips as if daring to bar him from interrupting her as she partook of the pages.

He realized that he was having oddly complex feelings toward a book of course, but nonetheless. Anything that took her attention so fully away from him was a threat in his opinion.

The aforementioned paperback was now triangled face down on the windowsill in front of her, her eyes gazing out and upward over the city below instead. She was fixated on something that he couldn't see from here, and her eyes seemed to Jumin a bit distant. Troubled from the previous surge of deluded doubt, he worried now that she may have suddenly begun having reservations about being with him, or was bored of him even (a fresh cold dread crawled up his spine at the very thought). His feet would not propel him to her, they couldn't. He stood utterly frozen, attempting to mentally balance himself between the two extremes of his fears. His paralysis dissolved however when her eyes disengaged from the skyline and focused on his reflection in the window instead. She turned her head to look directly at him and gave him a sweet, unassuming smile that instantly obliterated all of his doubts and worries, just as it always did each time she bestowed it unto him. Like a haven in the roiling sea of his constant unease and fear, her whole shining face was his beacon.

Jumin crossed over to her, his legs now strong and his stride sure. He gripped her supple chin with his fingers but gently, desperately careful not to startle her, not to hurt her. He tilted her face upward to keep their gazes transfixed on one another. Before she could say anything (his name--he saw the beginnings of it playing across her lips and he knew because he'd been continuously studying each faint twitch and curl of those lips within all of their days and nights together thusfar; he already knew what his name looked like on her perfect lips) he bent at the waist and kissed her firmly. The warmth of her surprised mouth seeped into his own and he patiently withheld the moan that pooled slowly at the bottom of his throat to hear her own sweet coo of pleasure first. The sound awakened something hot and maddening within him but of course he controlled himself. He wasn't confused about that emotion, not in the slightest.

Jumin let his eyes flitter open just as he pulled away from her so he could fully indulge in the view of her beautiful face and her reaction to the abrupt kiss he had stolen painted brightly across it. He not-so-secretly delighted in observing every flicker of emotion she produced (however slight) and mentally documented them in his rapidly growing catalogue of his thoughts of her. Her eyes blinked open, pleased delight twinkling within their depths. Then she smiled at him again and tilted her head ever so slightly to one side in silent curiosity. God, how he adored her--every endearing action no matter how insignificant made him struggle anew to suppress the urge to gather her up into his arms and claim her entirely, fiercely at that. He retained his composure still, naturally, as a gentleman always should. No matter how mad with desire her very presence drove him.

"Jumin?" her voice lilted high in amusement, wanting to understand his compulsive action. If only she knew how many emotions and thoughts he'd processed in the interim between the decision to approach her and that one singular kiss. Perhaps she did. He settled across from her on the window seat instead of answering her query, crossing one of his long legs over the other and neatening the towel around his shoulders meticulously so his still-wet hair didn't drip all over the place.

"What were you looking at?" he asked instead.

Her gaze slowly left him and re-engaged with night sky beyond the window glass. He observed her eyes unfocus slightly as her thoughts returned to whatever they had been before Jumin had emerged from his shower and interrupted them. "I.. saw a shooting star," she mumbled, almost in shyness he thought. Jumin lifted an eyebrow and likewise turned his attention to the sky, as if the star she had mentioned could possibly still be there now. Their respective gazes slid back down into the warm safety of the penthouse and to each other at the exact same moment, and Jumin's heart gave a satisfied thump at the happy coincidence. They were, as he sometimes heard some people describe it as, 'on the same wavelength'. 

"Do you ever wish on stars, Jumin?" She asked him, and he sensed that she already knew what his answer would be. He gave it to her regardless.

"No," he shook his head flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. Of course he didn't, wishing was impractical. It didn't do anything productive: it was for people who were lazy, who didn't believe in an honest hour of hard work or effort. She nodded expectantly, some wayward strands of her hair tumbling down across one of her cheeks. Jumin immediately reached across the space between them and tucked the locks back behind her ear, cupping that same cheek in his hand instead, his thumb stroking smoothly across the roundess of her cheekbone. Her lips faintly quirked upward despite the solemn look that had begun afflicting her expression. She leaned into his palm and nuzzled against it affectionately.

"Do you?" he asked her in return, likewise knowing what her answer would already be.

"Mm, yes," she looked a tad ashamed and yet also suddenly defiant, as if wordlessly daring him to call her childish for her response. And normally, Jumin would indeed have openly condemned this sort of thing. Wishing and hoping were pointless, useless endeavors. He loathed the meaningless positive cadence that seemed to thrum throughout current society; people really and truly believed that if they were just positive, if they kept hoping, if they prayed harder, if they wished for something strongly enough, they would get whatever it was they desired. Without sweat or effort, with no willpower, not even the over-dramatic 'blood and tears' adage. And if those people didn't receive what they had asked for, they whined and bemoaned their ill luck without holding a shred of personal accountability for themselves. But he would now never say such things in front of her knowing that she herself believed in those notions. No matter how much he disliked them, he could never actively intend to hurt her.

He was curious as to why she irrationally put faith in something so idle--how she could believe something so baseless. "Do you think that your wish will come true if you do so?" he questioned, well aware that his voice was heavy with disapproval despite trying to understand her reasoning. 

"Well, that's a bit complicated," she replied, and her more provocative stare gave way to that of her first look--the one of subdued sheepishness. He was confused: what could possibly be so complex about a simple 'yes/no' answer?

"Elaborate," he urged her, curious in spite of the subject matter. He withdrew his hand and leaned back against the trim of the large window frame, favoring her with a reserved silence, genuinely wanting to hear her reasoning. He thought that if anyone could overturn his admittedly unsympathetic mindset, she could. She sat upright, tucking her legs primly beneath her and fidgeting with her hair in its tie--a charming nervous habit she had and which Jumin had noted the very first day they'd met. Elizabeth the 3rd leapt nimbly up into the warm space between them with a mewl and circled around once, her dainty paws barely dimpling the cushioned padding beneath her weight. Then she nestled down comfortably, her fluffy tail tucking about her small body oh so elegantly and putting an end to the adorable little ritual. He watched his wife reach out with her free hand to stroke the pristine white fur along Elizabeth the 3rd's back once very softly, and Elizabeth stretched her head up slightly in kind, noiselessly accepting the affection and therefore giving her approval. Jumin was still pleased to see them both coexisting beside him comfortably like this.

"Wishing on stars," she began, "is like believing in magic." Here she hesitated, clearly still shy about her opinion in front of him. Jumin didn't change his posture, and was careful to keep his expression attentively open. He wanted her to understand that he was listening to her and taking her seriously, which he was.

"But magic isn't real," he returned with a matter of fact tone. She held up her finger in a contrary manner, the edges of her mouth perking up in the beginnings of an amused smile.

"Jumin, can you disprove magic?"

"Science has quite clearly disproven the existence of magic-"

"I don't mean 'fairy-tale magic'!" She laughed, and he loved the sound that it was: high and clear, like the delighted cry of an exotic bird. "Not the kind that you read in storybooks," she shook her head, and patted the thoroughly abandoned book that still laid face down atop the windowsill beside her. "Giant fireballs from one's fingertips and the like can't exist, of course not." She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling in a manner that was almost impish. They locked onto his own fervently, and Jumin was suddenly convinced that if magic truly was an undeniable force in the universe then this woman seated across from him was purely made from it. "I'm talking about the magic of wishes. The magic of stars," the words spilled from her lips in a final breathless rush, those brilliantly burning orbs which were her eyes turning away from him as her attention meandered back toward the night sky.

He kept his own stare riveted onto her, mildly stunned to realize that he longed for that intense gaze to fall back on him again. She was extremely passionate about the matter, and that in turn made him want to understand even more. He didn't dare to speak, however; in no way did he wish to interrupt the flow of her verbal stream of consciousness. It was as if he were under her own spell, cast upon him simply by the strength of her conviction. Silent mental processes flowed in tandem with the expressions of her face: the whimsical set of her mouth, the sparkles of starlight still glowing so deeply within her eyes.

"Just wishing for a thing doesn't make it come true. Hard work does that," she continued. Jumin found himself startled speechless. She was echoing the very thoughts he had mused to himself only minutes before. "Money, power, advantage, status, the strength of your own will... That's what determines if your hope--your dream--comes true or not. You decide your own destiny, not some falling rock from space." She said everything that he knew to be true and accurate, and yet she still held onto the eccentric sentiment. Why?

"Then, what do you suggest wishing on a star actually is?" he pressed, not just wanting to know but needing to. Rather than finding himself disinterested or irritated with the entirety of the topic up to this point, Jumin realized he was quite invested now instead.

"Think of..." her lashes fluttered briefly, eyes glimmering as she lowered them once again from the night sky outside. Her expression shifted slowly into a pretty, almost mischievous smile. "Think of love, Jumin," she returned her complete attention to him. "They're basically one in the same, love and magic. So, is love rational?"

"Yes," he answered, unhesitant. She ticked one of her eyebrows upward at his response.

"You think that love is rational?" she repeated, not with malice or condescension in her voice but amusement.

"Of course," he nodded. "You displayed qualities and behaviors that I naturally found appealing and so I began to love you."

Now she leaned one elbow onto her lap and rested her chin in the crook of that same hand, still grinning her captivating and somewhat mischievous grin. "Did you even know they were appealing to you to begin with?" she teased at him.

He hesitated, unsure of the answer she may have been seeking. He knew he loved her (obsessively so) and that was the singular truth to the entire matter. But when he attempted to apply rational thought to the source of that love-- _why_ he loved her, for example--all his reasonings suddenly became slightly muddled. Jumin found he could immediately list hundreds upon thousands of singular instances as to the reason: starting with the way he awoke each and every morning to the sight of her snuggled warmly against his chest, pressed perfectly against him as neatly as a matching puzzle piece; all the way down to how she became quietly frustrated with herself when she floundered unsuccessfully at a task and her eyebrows drew together while her lips tightened up with irritation. He could continue indexing these hypotheticals on and on without end, forever and onward into eternity if he were instructed to do so. And he would never run out of points to add to the ceaseless reasoning of why it was he loved her so completely.

But not one of those reasons his brain produced was a logical deduction. They were all self-made truths that he was firmly convicted of without a shred of rational evidence. Just his belief.

"It's a belief," she straightened, repeating his own thoughts verbatim for the second time that evening. "Beliefs defy all logic! They don't adhere to anything rational. And that's exactly what wishes are." She beamed at him, wildly satisfied that the conversation had finally arrived to the specific answer she'd been trying to convey. "Wishing on stars, hopeful thoughts, prayers--they're all defiant beliefs."

"I'm beginning to see your point," he conceded, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgement. When she presented the mundane and irrational as she had, it truly did begin making sense to him. The concept was not dissimilar to that of believing in God, he acknowledged. Scientifically speaking, the existence of God remained unexplained and yet, the presence of such an omniscient being remained widely and unquestioningly accepted by those who held deep conviction of Him. She was also right in her phrasing that the concept was also similar to love: a force of unknown and all-encompassing power despite lack of evidential truth. And he should know, he was prey to that very immeasurable force every single day (albeit willingly).

"When I wish for something," she spoke again but in tones of finality, rising up onto her knees. "I'm not asking the star, or god or the universe to give me what it is I want." He watched her lean forward and place her hands palm down on the cushions in front of her, fingers splayed evenly for balance. Elizabeth the 3rd sensed the movement and uncurled herself from the spot between the two of them. She stretched, her long and luxurious tail shuddering upright for a moment before bounding nimbly down to the tiled floor and padding away, granting access to the entirety of the window seat. His wife coyly crawled toward him on her hands and knees, closing the little gap instantly. Jumin's breath caught as inhaled sharply, watching, beginning to quiver slightly with anticipation. She batted her eyelashes, peering up at him delightedly, and not in the least bit innocently. "I'm telling the universe what it is I want more than anything else in the whole wide world."

"Which is?" Jumin managed to croak out past the air lodged deep in his throat. He couldn't breathe for fear of somehow ruining this rapidly intensifying moment. Her teeth caught on her bottom lip and pulled at it slightly, one corner of her mouth upturned tellingly. He continued to stare, watching the plump flesh fill out again, agonizingly and achingly slow. His vision turned nearly white with a sudden blaze of desire, and he knew that he couldn't keep control of himself for very much longer if she kept at this. His entire body tingled and buzzed with rapidly mounting excitement; he could sense the sheer tidal wave of his passion fighting to spiral itself out from under his careful restraint. Forcing himself to keep his arms crossed over his chest was the only way he found he could contain it all, and even that wasn't a guaranteed solution. He could already sense his resolve fraying about the edges.

She crawled easily onto his lap, pressing her warm body seamlessly up against his and he could bear it no longer. His hands spasmed against his biceps and somehow he managed to refrain from giving in to the monsoonal hunger thrashing ferociously within of him. He felt that his heart would possibly explode out from his chest at the rate in which it was driving itself--beating so wildly it practically sang her name. Her arms slowly, methodically, circled atop his shoulders and brushed the vaguely damp towel off of him and down onto the floor. Jumin's teeth clenched automatically as her skin caressed against his, his entire jawline straining and neck taut with self-restriction. Her lips rose to the thick, ticking muscle there and kissed it. His whole body twitched responsively toward the heat of her mouth; his fingernails dug into the meat of his arms, straining against the desperate urge to seize her and claim her before she finally decided to give an answer to his previous question. 

Her mouth trailed upward along his tight jaw and meandered to his right ear, brushing against the hot and tender flesh and sending a jolt of spiking insanity all throughout his right side. He unwillingly let out a low, shaky moan as he released his held breath in a desperate and shuddering rush. His arms finally conceded into loosening themselves and he wrapped them around her slowly, not wanting to frighten her off with how intensely he actually wanted to do so. He doubted he could have frightened her off though. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she was doing it quite avidly and profoundly on purpose.

"I wish..." She whispered so lightly that all he could make out was the ghost of the words riding on her warm breath. Gooseflesh leapt up across all of his skin; he shivered deliciously from the top of his head to the tip of his very last toe. His arms convulsively pulled her closer yet, as tight as he dared to without fear of harming her.

"I wish to be with Jumin Han forever," she at last answered him.

Jumin wasted no time in reminding her that wasn't something she needed to make a wish for. Because he was already completely hellbent on making that very thing come true for her.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to specify that the touch on religion in this story is not indicative of personal belief or in any way meant in a malicious manner toward any persons of any faith. it is not meant to be excluding either. it's made for a fictional argument in a fictional storyplot, and i'm sorry if any idea is taken as offensive, it wasn't meant to be so.
> 
> if there is an intense problem, please leave feedback so that i may alter it in whatever way i can.


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